The Truth Behind The Stars
by jdav
Summary: Set after The War of Wrath. Some flashback, first person female narrative. A tad of angst. Regrets, unhappiness and grief. Warned for Alternate interpretation of canon.


I have always wondered what made him commit all that he has done. Now, facing him in the Circle of Judgment, seated beside my husband and mate, I wonder again.

"There is no justification in the whole of the music of Ainur's song that would lighten your crimes." My husband's voice was harsh. I flinched subtly as the wind roared. His temper is always reflected in his element.

"On the contrary, there is one reason that even the most foolish of you can comprehend, brother, for me to have done all that I have!" Melkor's voice was as smooth and golden as ever.

I leant back against the stone support of my seat lest the others see my expression of pained regret. How often have I dreamt of that voice addressing me in the same tones, its exquisite tenor pronouncing my name?

"And what was that reason, Morgoth?" Mandos's voice is cold and unfeeling.

I have often wondered how the Lord of the Halls of Waiting could be so untouched by grief and sorrows. Irmo tells me that even Namo Mandos has a heart, however deeply hidden. I doubt it. My husband and he are the only Valar who have refused to even contemplate appealing to Eru on behalf of the cursed House of Finwë, condemned to the Void.

"My reason?" Melkor's voice had lost its potent melody. "I shall tell you my reason, brother!" The word brother was pronounced with a depth of immense disgust. "It was the same reason as everyone else's. What was Nolofinwë's reason for coming to single-combat with me? What was Fingon's reason for saving his cousin? What was Lúthien's reason to risk all?"

"You cannot expect me to believe that you, Morgoth, can even grasp the meaning of a word that deserves never to be tainted by your foul lips!" Manwë roared, the wind howled ominously.

"I did not use the sanctified word." Melkor sneered. "But that does not make my reasons less justified."

Manwë seemed wary, yet, curious; an expression that shone from the faces of all the Valar except two. Vairë, I was afraid, had suspected this for a long time. And I have always known the truth.

"Who is the unfortunate soul, pray tell us?" Manwë commanded the chained prisoner before us.

Tulkas and Oromë were smirking. Obviously, the idea of Morgoth Bauglir loving someone was alien to them. Nienna had none of her usual serenity as she smiled at Yavanna, as if exchanging a mutual disbelief.

"Liar, you are and liar you have always been!" Manwë spat as Melkor remained serenely silent. "There is none then."

"You may have the power to overthrow my dominion on Middle-Earth and Valinor." Melkor said quietly, his eyes gleaming with the unvanquished determination that had characterized him always. "But, Manwë, you do not have power sufficient to wrest my thoughts from me."

"Hiding it will avail you nothing." Mandos remarked.

"Speaking of it will avail me nothing." Melkor said resolutely. "But," his eyes met mine for the briefest of moments before glancing away, "there is atleast one person here who knows of this. I would rather they did not reveal it here. I would accept my sentence willingly; but to see the person suspiciously looked upon by the others because of my regard, that I would not accept."

Manwë leant forward, his eyes brimming with suspicions and fear. "It was not your hellhound, Sauron, whom we did not manage to capture?"

"He is wise enough to not let his pride stand in the way of fleeing for his freedom;" Melkor laughed, "And he will yet be a threat to you, for he will plot revenge thrice over. As he was my most loyal servant, I doubt it that if I had regarded him with a deeper emotion, he would not have responded."

"Are we not delaying the judgment?" I asked quietly, ever the dutiful, faithful consort of Manwë Súlimo.

Manwë looked at me curiously, obviously wondering about my lack of interest in what was the greatest trial held in this Circle of Judgment.

"Indeed, Manwë." Melkor's voice was detached. "Your lady is right. You merely delay the inevitable. Pass your judgment. It was a game, and there is only one winner. If I had vanquished you, I would have passed my judgment far sooner, I assure you."

So the judgment of the Valar was pronounced by Manwë and the wind blew in gusts as he spoke. Morgoth Bauglir was imprisoned to the Void forever. There was peace again.

There was peace again everywhere, except for one place… It did not matter, for that place was my tormented heart.

For I knew the reason why Melkor had destroyed so many lives and caused so much grief to every race. He had loved me. And I had been foolish enough not to see that when I should have.

* * *

When Eru created us, he had envisaged the Valar to be the guardians and mentors to the elves. We were created as male and female. According to Eru's scheme of things, Melkor was supposed to be the mightiest and the fairest of the Valar. And he was to have as consort the Lady of the Stars, Varda Elbereth, me.

But discord crept in on us even in those early times. Nienna refused to bond with Manwë. Her heart was forever given to the sorrows of the world. It was then that Manwë Súlimo started courting a naïve, easily persuaded soul.

Melkor was an enigma to me. He would spend time with me, talk with me, and walk with me. He would explain the marvels of Eru's creations with a patience and wisdom unsurpassed. I was in awe of him. But he had never mentioned the word 'love'. Soon, Melkor, Manwë, Nienna and I were the only Valar left. Eru urged us to make our decisions. For the new race, The Quendi, were waking at the waters of the Cuiviénen. It was time for us to take on our roles as their mentors.

Manwë was as different from his brother as water was from fire. He was a leader, who considered the counsels of all before making his decisions. Melkor always kept his own counsel. And

Melkor, for all his wisdom, failed to know my insecurity. Manwë made the first move. Relieved, I followed. We were bonded before Eru.

And Melkor began his life anew. The Mightiest Vala, who had always been caregiver to all of Eru's creations, turned into destroyer. He left Valinor for the new lands in the east.  
And it was only after his departure that I learnt the meaning of eternal regret.

* * *

The elves on Middle-Earth call me their patron. I am; for I understand the pain and grief they endure in those harsh lands. The pain and grief they endure because of my fickleness in my youth.

I met Melkor once before the destruction of the Trees. He was leaving from Fëanor's forge. Their work made me worried. I knew that Manwë had some scheme in motion. He has always hated both Melkor and the brilliant Fëanor. A plan to bring them together, then, seemed to be prophetic.

"Varda." He nodded quietly as we met on the path.

"Melkor," I smiled, his seeming coldness to me caused a deep pain in my heart, once more reminding me of my mistake, "Is your work fruitful?"

"It is, of course;" he said truthfully, "Any quest that Fëanoro embarks on is bound to be a success. I am waiting for the results."

I felt a vague stir of unease at his eagerness. But I was reluctant to end our conversation and said quietly, "I did wonder why Manwë let Fëanor approach you. Aulëcould have done this, for he has more time to spare."

"My brother is not as mild as he seems." Melkor's eyes darkened. "Only your will has kept him from appealing to Eru for casting me into the Void."

"Much grief have the Quendi endured under your shadow;" I remarked. "So Manwë was most concerned."

"I doubt it that he would care even if I had succeeded in obliterating all the Quendi." He laughed harshly, "His reasons are stronger and more personal."

I opened my lips to reply, but then desisted.

"I mean to leave again for the lands of the east." He said after a long moment of silence.

"It is not my place to oppose you…I know that you feel out of place here. But if there is anything I could do, I will gladly do that to make you stay. You are Vala, and belong to Valinor." I entreated.

"If you had said that…if I had the courage then," he shook his head gravely, "But I thank you, Varda, I thank you deeply. I must leave, and the reason is best left unspoken."

"Do you forgive me?" I asked hushed, my heart thudding with regrets. "I wish I could undo my mistake, Melkor, I wish I could turn back the time."

"Even for a Vala, there are limits for wishing". He smiled wryly. "Varda, you must promise me something."

"Whatever I can;" I said sincerely, "Whatever you wish."

"Promise me that you will let your stars shine down on the eastern lands till the end of time," he murmured earnestly, "I would see them and think of you, of your radiance, warmth and splendour. I would have something of you always."

"The stars shall shine down;" I whispered, "Till the end of time."

* * *

"What are you thinking?" Manwë asked me concernedly after the judgment.

"Do you think there is starlight in the Void?" I asked wistfully, not caring anymore.

"I doubt there would be much good to waste the stars in the emptiness," Manwë chuckled, "Good riddance to him, forever."  
I nodded dutifully.

"Do you think he was speaking the truth there?" Manwë asked after a moment, "He looked dreadfully earnest."

"I believe he was speaking truthfully," I said carefully, "Love is not ruled by our minds, Manwë."

"As I know and experience everyday." He fondly tucked a lock of my hair away above my ear. "Well, the house of Finwë will soon give him company, I daresay. Artanis fights a lonely battle, moving inexorably towards defeat."

I nodded and moved away, my mind whirling with thoughts. The House of finwë. My mistake has affected them the most. My husband had schemed to bring about the exile of Fëanor. Melkor slaughtered Finwë. Then there were the disasters of kinslaying, exile, the burning of ships at Losgar, Fingolfin's journey across the icy Helcaraxë. Fëanor was killed trying to avenge his father and recover his creations. Fingolfin died trying to avenge his brother. The long captivity of Maedhros Fëanorion and torments on the Thangorodrim. I was to blame, I was the root cause of it all.

The Curse of the Valar followed them everywhere. I sighed, I had to repair my mistake. I had condemned one to the Void. I would not stand by while an entire house fell prey to our curse.

* * *

"My lady." A wise voice called me back from my whirling thoughts.  
"

Olórin," I said gravely, "I wish you to sail across and aid the cause of The House of Finwë. Enough loss have they borne. I shall take up the matter with Manwë."

"I knew you would not abandon the Quendi to Sauron. Not for nothing do they revere you above all the Valar." Olórin said gratefully. "I am ready to leave as soon as I may."

* * *

"Not for nothing do they revere you above all the Valar."

Olórin's words stayed with me tauntingly even for years after his departure to the east.

If only they knew the truth behind the shining stars of Elbereth.

* * *

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Terms:

Olórin - Gandalf.

Nolofinwë - Fingolfin.

Artanis - Galadriel.

Helcaraxë - The Great Ice.

Melkor - Morgoth.

Quendi - The Elves.

Cuiviénen - The waters of Awakening of the elves.

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References:

The Journal of Fingolfin.

The Journal of Maglor.

The Song of Sunset.

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* * *


End file.
